


Five Kisses Under the Mistletoe

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Kisses, M/M, Multi, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whoever said a kiss was just a kiss could kiss his ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Kisses Under the Mistletoe

1 Jack/Sam/Daniel  
  
These things always happened when it got late. Some guests were drunk, some were asleep, others had lost some of their clothes along the way. Inhibitions were low. The possibility of embarrassment was high.

And that was when Mitchell produced the mistletoe.

And held it over Sam’s head.

“I’m goin’ in,” he slurred, and promptly passed out as he leaned towards her.

Sam caught the scent of Southern Comfort as he landed face-down on the sofa. No southern comfort for her from Cameron tonight, then. She sighed and picked up the sad-looking sprig of greenery that was lying half-crushed under Mitchell’s face. She wasn’t looking for romance or love or happy-ever-after – be careful what you wish for – but a kiss or two might have been nice. You know, warm and festive. Disconsolately, she held the drooping mistletoe over her head and closed her eyes. What would be would be. She didn’t want to beg, or anything.

Seconds later, kisses landed on both cheeks.

One pair of lips was warm but thin. The kiss was reserved, barely there and then gone, but the echo lingered. The other pair was fuller, softer, just as warm. The kiss was gentle, brushed her skin with more feeling, stayed a little longer, was withdrawn with a hesitation that left her suffused with a sudden, aching sadness.

She recognized both sets of lips; her skin tingled with sense memory. One night, so long ago, and she could recall every sensation. She tamped down the urge to remember more. What was the point in that?

She opened her eyes, swallowed hard and said, “Who’s next?” in the brightest voice she could muster.  
  
  
2 Jackson/Mitchell  
  
Off-world, the last mission before Christmas, and they were in a forest where the spruce-like trees were laden with something that looked very like mistletoe.

“Where the hell is a pretty girl when you need one?” Mitchell sighed, pointing the end of his P-90 at the trailing mistletoe-alike.

“I wouldn’t let Sam or Vala hear you say that. They could easily take exception,” Jackson said, peering at the greenery.

Mitchell turned to face him. “What? That I don’t think they’re pretty, or that I’m somehow spouting sexist crap?”

“Both. Neither. I gave up trying to figure out women long ago. Especially the two in question,” Jackson said, sounding distracted, touching the faux mistletoe with gentle fingers.

Mitchell’s mouth went dry, watching the care that Jackson took in the handling.

“You’ve … given up on women?” Mitchell said, slowly, wondering why the hell he’d just said that.

“I didn’t say that, just that I’ve stopped trying to get inside their heads.” Jackson let the plant slip from his fingers.

“Now that, I can get behind,” Mitchell said, eyes fixed on Jackson’s hand, which Jackson had suddenly raised to his mouth.

“Fuck!” Jackson exclaimed, frantically sucking his fingertips. “They’re burning. Damn plant must have some sort of chemical irritant. Christ … Jack always told me not to touch. Ow!” The ‘ow’ was muffled as he tried to ease the burn by sucking again.

“Here, let me take a look,” Mitchell pulled the fingers from Jackson’s mouth, watched as spit strings pulled taut then vanished, leaving the fingers wet and slippery. He turned the hand this way and that, feeling the warmth, suddenly overwhelmed by the need – and it was a need – to put the palm to his mouth and kiss it, to taste salt and skin and Jackson.

So he did.

For a second, both men appeared to stop breathing, the sound of the kiss hanging heavy in the air between them.

When Jackson spoke, his voice was weighted with something that Mitchell couldn’t define. “Sam has the first aid kit. I’d better …” But he didn’t move. He didn’t make eye contact either, although Mitchell willed him to.

“Yeah,” Mitchell said, letting go of Jackson’s hand. As if in slow motion, he watched the graceful arcing curve of the arm as the hand settled loosely at Jackson’s side.

He closed his eyes as Jackson brushed past him and crunched his way through bracken and twigs in search of Sam.

Well, fuck. Whoever said a kiss was just a kiss could kiss his ass. He hit the trunk of the nearest tree hard and turned to follow.

  
3 Jack/Vala  
  
Jack eyed her warily. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on General, you seem like the type that knows how to have fun. Heaven knows this lot have precious little idea of the concept.” She jerked her head in the general direction of the SGC Christmas party.

“SGC Christmas parties are not intended to be fun,” Jack grouched, casting his eyes around for rescue. “They are designed to be something you get through.”

Vala sighed and righted the flashing reindeer antlers that had slipped sideways on her head. “Anyway, as I said, I’ve invested in one of those temporary tattoo things. They’re really very amusing. This one is mistletoe and you’re not telling me you don’t want to know where it …” She began to untuck her black T-shirt from her BDU pants.

“Aht!” Jack looked swiftly both ways and caught her arm just as a flash of stomach was revealed. He ground out sotto voce, “I do not want to know where your damn tattoo is.”

Vala flashed him her best and brightest smile. “How disappointing. For you.” She pulled her hand free with rather more force than was necessary. Then she leaned in, putting her lips close enough to Jack’s ear for him to feel the heat from her breath. “Underneath the mistletoe really is the only place to be at Christmas, if I understand this particular Earth custom correctly.”

Vala pulled back, winked, took the reindeer antlers from her head and placed them firmly on Jack’s.

  
4 Daniel/Sabrina  
  
They were pleasantly squiffy from the good red wine, replete from the good food and warmly anticipating some more holiday loving, when Sabrina planted a none-too-gentle kiss on Daniel’s mouth and rose from the big cushions on the floor by the log fire. More than a little unsteady on her feet, she lurched over to the coffee table and picked something up, hiding it behind her back.

“Guess what I found at the market today?” she asked, sashaying her way in an exaggeratedly sexy way back to the fireside.

Daniel peered up myopically at her. His glasses had been lost somewhere between here and the kitchen or the bathroom or the antique foyer table that now needed expert repair. Even blurred, she looked stunning, her silk negligee clinging in all the right places. “Two pork chops and some expensive, new-season asparagus and to hell with the food miles?” he queried.

She laughed, and the sound was like honey over ice cream.

“Guess again. Or maybe, no, don’t.” She whipped the mistletoe quickly from behind her back in a grand gesture that threw her off balance, and she landed firmly in Daniel’s arms amid the cushions. “Ta da!”

Daniel spluttered. “I think you’re drunk,” he said softly, kindly, pushing the titian hair back from where it had fallen across her face.

She blinked at him. “I think I probably am,” she said, sounding surprised. She raised the mistletoe over her head. “I think it would be a dreadful, dreadful thing if you were to take advantage of me,” she said, waving the greenery imperiously.

“I’m a dreadful, dreadful man,” Daniel said, and he kissed her, long and slow, pushing her down further into the cushions.

She let out a small “Mmmmmmm” and stretched luxuriously beneath him. “I’ve wrapped my bullwhip in tinsel and pinned holly to the band on my fedora. They’re up in the bedroom,” she whispered, biting her lower lip and tilting her head in her very best coquettish way.

Daniel smiled and it made her smile in return.

“Then I’ll be your Marion,” Daniel laughed.

She took his mouth in a hard kiss and squealed as Daniel stood, scooped her up in his arms and headed for the stairs. She didn’t notice as the mistletoe fell from her hands and was squashed beneath Daniel’s feet.

  
  
5  Jack/Daniel  
  
It was past 4 a.m. on Christmas morning. Everyone had gone home. The house was littered with glasses and party detritus, which Jack happily closed the door on.

Daniel held open the covers and Jack let out a heart-felt groan as he threw himself down on the bed. Daniel immediately snuggled in, head on his shoulder, leg draped over his. It felt warm and peaceful and wonderful.

Jack laid a gentle kiss on top of Daniel’s head and only then became aware that Daniel was already asleep.

Jack smiled to himself.

“Who needs mistletoe anyway?” he whispered, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 

ends


End file.
